Hetalia: Pirates
by Hetaliar
Summary: Captains Antonio Carriedo and Arthur Kirkland are both dead set on being rivals. Arthur is a privateer and tries to steal Spain's gold; while Antonio tries to deliver riches back to Spain while taking care of the little Italian orphan, Lovino. They are tied in a political mess in the courts and raging battle on the seas. Portugal and France get involved.
1. The Green Eyes of Jealousy

Hetalia: Pirates

Chapter one: The Green Eyes of Jealousy

The 1700's, also known as the Golden Age of Piracy, was both a ruthless and bountiful time for those who gave their heart to the sea.

What was it like to be a pirate? Scallywags and murderers and thieves who sailed the oceans, doing as they wanted with no other authority than their captain and Mother Nature. It was to stop their plundering and disturbances that privateers came about; they would hunt down the pirates for a sum of money and in the name of their king and country, preventing them from attacking harmless ships and transports. But in reality, most were no better than a pirate themselves, betraying their comrades and living for gold, pretending to be loyal to some royal on a throne. Was there truly a difference between a pirate and a privateer when both would betray their masters for a bag of gold?

Privateer or pirate? The real answer meant little to the two dueling countries, who were full of distrust and distaste for the other, because in the end, they had the same goal in mind: Gold. The blood money of the Caribbean. Spain had plenty of it and was the wealthiest country in all of Europe, even compared to Portugal! He would foolishly flaunt his wealth around the Caribbean and in the European courts, drawing the big green eyes of envy from other countries, but especially the emerald eyes of England. Yes, the English country watched Spain's every step, biding the time until he too could flaunt around and laugh in the other's faces. It was only luck that Spain was able to save his skin by striking it rich in South America…wealth had saved the poor country, but wealth was also corrupting it. Inflation was on the rise and even the common people had more money than the 'Average Joe' in the next country over. The neighboring countries were also being corrupted with jealousy. England more than anyone wanted to put a stop to it.

It was a challenge coming up with plans to commandeer, or simply steal, the gold and silver riches from Spain – the envy of everyone's heart – and lay claims to it for the British crown. But by George, England would find a way to do it, keeping dignity in the eyes of others as he did so.

A dark brown leather glove gripped the narrow neck of the tall, glass bottle he was drinking. He tilted it back to meet his pair of pink lips. How many bottles had he finished off this night alone? Two or three? He wasn't counting because it didn't matter. Captain Arthur Kirkland, or Cap'n Iggy as he was better known, was a renowned privateer for her majesty's royal ships, but everyone knew him as a ruthless swashbuckler and cutthroat behind his most loving queen's back…or to her willing blind eye. A large grin was plastered onto his young, stubby face as slammed his boot-covered feet down on the table top. "More rum," he demanded. He and his crew had stopped by a ragged inn to rest and celebrate a victory over the French Captain, Francis Bonnifoy, who tried so very hard to be as successful a pirate as Iggy was. Francis wished to bring glory and wealth for his country but failed, apparently because 'frogs' cannot swim in salt water. Oh yes, Iggy found this very amusing and never turned down a chance to burn a little 'Frenchie' vessel or two, whether or not it was a warship or merchant ship. Frenchmen were a great deal of sport and he took enjoyment in harassing them, especially that Bonnifoy bloke whom he favored embarrassing the most. However, it was the Spanish who were the cause of Iggy's misfortune…Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and his queen, always showing off with their new clothing apparel in the courts; gold-laced cuffs and trimming or silver bracelets and shoes. But more than that, _Carriedo_ got on his nerves, speaking in his fancy, flowing language that made all the British women swoon. The worst part of all was that tanned idiot was ignorant to the opposite gender's affections as he did so, always smiling nervously while his king and queen conversed for all those present to hear. Iggy would always lean back in his chair, staring at his opponent with narrow eyes throughout the entirety of the gathering, wondering how he was going to get him alone in the dark to murder him. Everyone else in court was non-the-wiser to what was going on behind the scenes in the plotting of their royalties, pitting the two privateers against the other.

But now wasn't the time to think on it. Iggy had come here for a celebration and would be hanged if he did not have his fun!

He aimed his pistol at the chandelier and shot out one of the candles, causing a ricochet and roaring laughter from him and his crew. Iggy pulled a bar wench down in his lap, running his hands across her waist. The tavern was lively with noisy drunkards as he kissed the wench.

Iggy's normal appearance was rather tethered tonight; his large-brimmed, velvet-colored hat was dormant on the table, its giant purple feather dangled down the end of the table, no longer perky. His white shirt was unbuttoned and his scarlet-blue sash was loose. His choppy blonde hair was still wild and unruly, but he was drunk and had bad breath. He was going to live this night to its full extent and no one was going to tell him what to do.

In opposition to the loud crashing sounds of a tavern, was the quietness of the open sea. The sound of the flamenco guitar echoed in the bright, star-lit night. Not a cloud was in the sky – everything was soft, still, and silent. The beautiful Trunfante, a one-hundred gun ship, was sailing over the smooth, turquois water of the Caribbean. The pale colors of yellow, green, and brown were painted very stylishly over the ship's exterior, not out-shining the crescent moon. A stallion's head was carved into the ship's bow, symbolic of its free, victorious spirit. This was the most successful ship in all of the Spanish Armada's possessions.

Antonio Carriedo sat on the deck stairs, his rough, tanned fingers danced quickly and with ease over the guitar's strings. His eyes were closed and his head moved slowly along as a soft smile was spread across his lips. The music portrayed a sort of melancholic feeling that loomed in the air, full of an unknown sadness, which was contrary to this Spaniard's usual carefree behavior. The notes just flowed naturally. He was wearing a white, loose shirt with long strings hanging from his collar. His sash was dark green, he had a small wooden cross tied around his neck on a thin string, and there was only a hint of a tattoo across his chest, but his shirt was covering most of it.

Big, golden eyes stared up at Antonio in admiration and amazement as he played the instrument with such focused, yet no effort. Then Antonio stopped. He glanced down at the little Italian boy who was watching him so intently, his eyes were kind and his expression was soft, only a dim light shone on both of their faces. Upon realizing Antonio was returning his gaze, the young child's curious, sweet complexion turned into a scowl. His eyes narrowed and he asked a little annoyed, "Why'dda you stop for, eh?"

Antonio sighed happily, but with a sense of weariness, "Porque…bed time, nino."

"I don't wanna!" shouted the boy as he stood up. "You can't eh make me!"

With ease, Antonio scooped the boy into one arm and cradled him. "Usted es in need of mucho sleep, more den you think. We have eh big day manana, the horizon offers us much."

The Italian yawned, "…but I donna want eh sleepa, Idioto! I wanna…stay awake..wif…y…" His eyes shut and he lost himself to the pulling arms of sleep.

"Hush now…buenos nochas, Lovino. Felices suenos," Antonio whispered, brushing the boy's hair back and kissing his forehead.

Lovino was an orphan whom Antonio decided to take under his care after finding him abandoned in an Italian marketplace, in trouble for stealing. He found out that the boy's parents were killed by pirates and so made it his responsibility to raise the boy, trying to pay back a debt he did not really owe. He felt responsible because whoever killed Lovino's parents were probably living the same life that he was, therefore wanted to make reprimands somehow. Besides for that, Antonio felt a deep connection to the child; he always wished for companionship and prayed, doing penance for a friend, and once he found the boy he immediately believed that his prayer was answered. He felt so connected to Lovino that he saw him as a son. His crew members poked fun at him for this, but respected their captain for his fidelity and devotion to the orphan.

Antonio tucked the boy into bed and laid down next to him, staring in awe at the wonderful creation of the human being sleeping so silently under the covers, the only time the boy's face seemed to be without a hint of anger or hidden sadness. No pretense of a tough surface, because Antonio knew how fragile he really was. He watched Lovino for a while, wishing the boy had not suffered the loss of parents at such a young age. Perhaps he pitied him, or perhaps it was sympathy in understanding the loss. Either way, Antonio wanted to show him love enough to fill the gap for both of their losses. His eyes drooped closed, the last image in his mind was that of the sleeping boy, curled up and drooling on the pillow next to him.

**I** **know my Spanish is bad, or probably used incorrectly XD, but here are the definitions for the words I used, just in case:**

**Flamenco: a small Spanish guitar….Porque: because…Nino: boy…Usted: you (respectfully)…Manana: tomorrow…Buenos nochas: good evening (or night)…Felices suenos: happy dreams**


	2. The Price of Revenge

Chapter Two: The Price of Revenge

The warm Caribbean wind blew freely in the sails, but the muggy air drew sweat from Iggy's brow. The humid, tropical temperature during the days was the only thing he disliked about the Gulf of Mexico and the new world. Also, it did not help his headache that he still had a hangover from the previous night of celebration. But aside from that, he loved everything there was to offer in this foreign world; he loved the freedom; he loved the opportunities; he loved the beautiful islands…and he also loved that he could easily set up ambush points for the Spanish ships wishing to return to King Phillip II with mounds of gold. God, he despised that king and did everything within his power to annoy him with news of yet another destroyed or sunken ship. The king was so idiotic that he would order for the ships to haul back more gold than they could carry, so naturally, Iggy would take advantage of the slow-moving ships, reaping the goods. Iggy also didn't appreciate the rudeness Phillip displayed towards his beloved Queen Elizabeth. In accordance to her wishes, and a Letter of Marque, he became a privateer for her royal highness in order to fraught him outside the games of the courtroom…but piracy was a better suited word for it. She didn't care what heinous deeds he committed as long as he brought more gold and silver back to fill their economy and rival the ever-growing wealth of Spain. In exchange for the work, his queen would build up his good reputation for him under a pretense.

This evening particularly was going to offer a chance for a beneficial raid. There were rumors of a large shipment deporting from the Virgin Islands leaving that very evening. _Yes, a new dress would look extraordinary on you, my queen_, Iggy imagined himself saying upon seeing her smiling face at the news, as he would bend down to kiss her hand with a devilish grin. This helpful tip came from a reliable source and cost the life of one of Captain Kirkland's best spies. But his death was not needless – he would be avenged this very night! His sacrifice was meaningful to the cause, Iggy convinced himself to ease the guilt. In avertedly the blame had to fall on that damned Carriedo who would suffer greatly in the name of the English Crown!

Antonio Carriedo's feet seemed to glide across the yellow deck. His dark, messy hair was freely waving in the salty air and his wide grin was spread across his brownish, glowing face. "Ha ha, avast, amigo!" He was playfully sparring with one of the deckhands, Juan, for practice. He was unrivaled in skill wielding his sharp, silver cutlass. Deckhands were not much of a challenge, but he also wanted to teach them a few skills in the process – they would gasp and clap in amusement while watching, drawing straws to see who would face the captain next.

Juan lunged at Antonio's right side, but it was easily parried, knocking the other sword from his opponent's hand. It landed with a loud 'clink' on the hard wooden floor board and was followed by laughter from the other sailors. They handed around their wages as Juan caught his breath. Carriedo knew that Kirkland would be a more formidable opponent than his crew was and more capable from experience. Truthful, they had only dueled once in the heat of battle, and Antonio was anxious for that sort of challenge once again. After all, that English pirate had been successful in knocking Antonio off his proverbial feet of late. He had to be careful.

Antonio's brow crinkled in anger only slightly at the thought of his rival, an expression rare for anyone to see on his face, but it was back to his normal, calm expression in only a second. No one had noticed him act out of character. Juan was standing behind Antonio, disappointed at his loss and the fact that he had stumbled from losing his grip. The Spanish captain wasn't so heartless as to keep his shipmate in suspense as he lost himself in thought of his rival for a moment. He slid his boot under the hilt of the fallen blade and kicked it up towards the defeated Juan who caught it correctly. Antonio had to admit the young man had some raw talent, "see, amigo? Usted ahora fuerte! Mucho practice y es el expertos!"

"Si, mi Capitain!" Juan grinned, even though he had lost, because he had fun and Antonio had treated him with respect despite his loss.

"Comma on, whydda stop, eh?!" Lovino called from his perch on top the side of the ship's rail, holding on to the rope net, "you eh couldda beaten thata smelly pig, el Capitano!" he swung his fist in the air when he said that.

Antonio looked over at the half-joking, half-serious, rambling of the miniature Italian who acted as if he was witnessing a boxing match. He smiled, "Que? What es the fun en dat?" he side-smirked at Lovino, "there es not always shame en defeat. Pride can be found en humility as well, Lovi."

Lovino pouted and crossed his arms. "Thatta makes eh no sense, dumbass. You're just a pussycat," he complained. Some of the sailors snickered under their breaths, not at the snide remark or in agreement, but at the little Italian's difficult nature and mature opinions on things.

The captain shook his head and smiled knowingly, but he then tilted his head to the side as if curious, "oh really? Is that so?" He gestured towards Juan's sword, "permiso?" Juan handed it over. He flashed a grin at Lovino. "Well then, little Tomate," he stepped closer to the rail Lovino was sitting on, "care to try your hand?" He tilted the sword's handle towards Lovino, holding the hilt and the blade as if he were presenting it to him.

Lovino's eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows, staring in disbelief. "Cosa? Mi?"

"Si, if you want it," Antonio nodded and moved his hands up more, offering it again.

Slowly, Lovino uncrossed his arms and then hopped down from the rail. He stood still for a second, then he walked over to where Antonio and the other adults were standing. He widely stared at the large sword being gently presented to him. His small, trembling, olive-colored hands reached up to take the heavy hand-guard. Whispering to himself in freight, in a tone the others couldn't hear, he said, "damn you…don'te be a cardardo in front of the others…"

But before Lovino could grab the sword, there was a shout from the crow's nest up top the main mast post, "El Capitain! We have reached de islands!"

Antonio dropped his hand, the sword along with it, to meet his side, dangling. "Que? Well dehn, everyone prepare le Triunante for her next haul! This time, England won't stop us. Pronto!" He hurried off to help the crew prepare the ship and drop anchor, leaving Lovino heartbroken.

Every time Captain Carriedo paid special attention to Lovino, just when Lovino put aside his pride and admired him the most, something would intrude upon that moment. And usually that 'something' was gold. He wished Antonio would just forget about his duties for once and live for himself. Only a short time with him was all Lovino wanted…a time to share with the only man whom he considered to be a father or at least a big brother. But no, either that gold got all the attention or it was that freaking bastard pirate from England. Lovino kicked a wooded barrel and ran below decks to offer himself some solitude. He couldn't let the sailors she him cry. 'He is a tough kid,' they would all say, but inside he felt weak and he knew he was a coward.

The sun was starting to turn an orange-reddish hue in the sky, but the clouds were few and scattered. The Spanish captain wiped his brow. Everyone had taken a hand in loading the heavy cargo on board. The last few ship raids had deprived the Spanish economy of its reliance on expected goods. This shipment was to be the restoring factor to the quick over usage back home.

In his heart, Antonio worried that the demand for more gold and silver would only crush his economy from the inside with inflation, but he obeyed his greedy king's wishes along with those sometimes heartless demands of his people. He sighed and wished for the best. He would worry more if the problem was currently looking him in the face and threatening him; for now, he had to worry about getting this ship and her crew back home safely.

He was unaware of a certain jolly-good Englishman spying on him, always one step ahead.

**Usted ahora fuerte! Mucho practice y es el expertos = (something like) you are strong now! With practice and you'll be an expert (sorry, but I am terrible! lol)**

**Permiso = permission, Que= what, Tomate= tomato, Cosa= what (Italian), Cardardo= coward (Italian)**


	3. Prepare for Battle

Chapter three: Prepare for Battle

The Trunfante was docked in adjacent to the Virgin Island of St. John. The ship's haul was full of the shiny treasures awaiting their new home in Europe. Antonio tossed a silver coin up and down in his hand, trying to convince himself that this was all worth it.

"Capitain," Juan hurried over. "The preparations are complete!"

Antonio took another long look at the coin in his hand, then he looked up and smiled. "Aye aye!" With a quick motion, Antonio tossed the coin up high in the air, picked up his elaborate green jacket and swung it over, putting in his sleeves quickly and adjusting it to fit. The coin fell fast and landed in Antonio's hand, heads up. He kissed it and slipped it into his side pocket. Juan offered the captain his large-brimmed, feathered hat. "Gracias, amigo." Antoino lifted it and placed it on his head with a slight tug downwards on the brim. He looked rather dashing and handsome with his dress uniform and broad grin. "Let's go home, eh?"

"Si, mi capitain!" Juan saluted and ran off to his duties.

Antonio peeled a banana and started to nibble it as he ascended the deck stairs. He looked around curiously. "Has anyone seen Lovino?"

"No, mi capitain," the navigator answered from behind the wheel.

"Hmm, dat's odd…" Antonio put a hand on the front rail, peering down on the deck, searching the busy faces to find his little friend, but the small Italian was nowhere in sight. His cheery expression faded.

He started to walk back down the stairs to search when his first mate called, "Capitain, we are prepared to raise anchor."

Antonio looked over at Capre, his first mate, and nodded. "Si, give de order."

"Elevar la ancla!" Capre ordered.

Antonio looked briefly again with a glance, but not seeing Lovino, resumed his spot up stairs. He was captain and had a job to perform. Lovino was alright and it wasn't like he would leave the ship alone…

Not too far away, Iggy was watching the Trunfante intently through his spying-glass. He chuckled to himself. "Once again, easy prey. When will that fool learn to pack lightly? A ship of that size is not built for speed, but it doesn't mean it should be weighed further down. No doubt he had to jettison some cannons in order to carry the treasure. Tsk tsk." He lowered his spyglass with a grin. "You are not very smart, Carriedo….but that's some of the fun. Heh." He collapsed the spyglass and put it inside his maroon jacket. Using one hand, he leaped over the rail onto the deck below. "Alright you scallywags! Prepare for battle! Ready the canons and make it quick! Let's hit it rich!" The crew cheered and hurried to obey orders, readying the gun powder and weapons. Iggy unsheathed his elaborately jewel handled cutlass and raised it in the air, laughing insanely.

Kirkland's ship was a slick, medium sized vessel, built for speed and outrunning other ships. It was rare that the Dauphin's sails were never without wind. This was actually a French ship Iggy had commandeered through a game of poker a few years ago. "I hate the French, but they had the right idea with this ship," he made the excuse. Besides, he looked for any chance to steal from anyone associated with Bonnifoy. The simple, but beautiful, wooden ship was trimmed in light blue, and on its bow was carved a shirtless woman, whom Iggy assumed signified a woman's dignity, or something as silly as that. The French were so stupid. Iggy just admired the craftsmanship, not the significance. This ship had proven faithful to Iggy in a tight squeeze. Somehow luck always seemed to follow him on the seas, while on land he was plagued with misfortune. Iggy had streaks of luck, but for this reason he preferred to stay on the ocean and detested making port. This was his ship and nothing on land was important enough to hold him there.

**Thanks for reading this story and keeping up ^_^ I really appreciate it. Please look forward to more, and please leave reviews because they lift my spirit and encourage me to write more. Translations:**

**Elevar la ancla= raise anchor**

**Dauphin= Dolphin (French**)


	4. The Dauphin Versus the Trunfant

Chapter Four: The Dauphin Versus the Trunfante

Lovino was sitting alone. He did not help out with loading the cargo, not that there was much his little hands could do. He only sulked to himself, not wanting to see anymore gold. "Thosa idiotos are justa….stupida!" he was sitting on the edge of a barrel filled with tomatoes and it was apparent that he had already eaten most of them because his cheeks were covered in tomato juice and seeds. Lovino felt the ship tremble and knew that it meant it was time to go. He stood up on the barrel and peered out the window on his tip-toes to watch as the giant metal anchor was lifted up and water and seaweed fell loose. The salty Caribbean air was cool, but the new burst of water made his hair blow widely and the water splashed over his face, causing him to blink. He watched in amazement because this was the first time he had seen the anchor lifted so closely from out the window. He whispered in amazement and then hopped down from the barrel, hurrying back up deck to find his papa and hopefully share his new experience with him.

Before Lovino made it up to the deck, he heard a faint booming sound. He froze. _What wasa that_? His heart started to race as he hurried up and saw the crew members scurrying around. The Dauphin had begun its attack. More cannon balls were shooting forward, crashing in the blue-green water nearby, getting closer to positive contact each time. The Trunfante's own cannons were being prepared and the scent of smoke and gunpowder was filling the air quickly. Lovino began to panic amongst the shouting and his eyes started to blur with tears, he looked around in desperation for Antonio, but he couldn't speak or call for him because he was so frightened. He opened his mouth but no sound came. His legs started to tremble and he was paralyzed. Last time Kirkland had attacked them, Lovino witnessed bloodshed and people dying all around him. From that moment, every time he heard a cannon fire, he would start panicking and sought out the warm arms of Antonio for comfort.

The sound of canons rang throughout the air, the Trunfante barely had a chance. The Dauphin had a head-start and attacked at the opportune moment when the Trunfante was at its weakest.

"The ship can'te afford a single hit to the haul!" Antonio called to the crew. He knew that Kirkland wouldn't sink the ship because he wanted its contents…then again, they had barely left the shallow water, making recovery of the gold an easy feat. They had little choice but to surrender….

Iggy snickered to himself, _no doubt Carriedo is scurrying about in panic…he knows what I want…he's luck that the last time I spared his life after leaving him a little gift of remembrance_. He licked his sword at the thought of Antonio's blood spilt over it. _He'll have that scar for the rest of his life_. He grinned evilly and walked to the ships rail, leaning over it, loosely supporting himself using his elbows and forearms. He could feel Antonio's eyes glaring at him with hate and it made him smirk even more smugly.

Antonio gripped his side for a moment, remembering the deep wound from Iggy's last visit, then his hand slipped down to find the handle of his seethed sword. _That will not happen again_! Antonio ran down the stairs and made an order, "Listen up…"

Iggy's smile faded and he shouted, "Hold fire!" his order was echoed by his officers. He narrowed his eyes and said lowly to himself, "What are you up to, Carriedo?"

The Dauphin was upon the Trunfante momentarily and the two ships were close enough that shouts could be heard from the other crews. Iggy called over, "You'd better raise your little surrender flag, Carriedo…otherwise it looks like I'll be playing pick-up sticks and collecting your scattered body parts for a native ritual, heh heh."

It was Antonio's turn to narrow his eyes and grin smugly. "Oh really?" he called back. "I was about to say the same!" he nodded at his first mate and an order was given.

"Blast it!" Iggy ducked down as the Trunfante's canons began to fire into the Dauphin's side. _You sneaky Spanish bas_—He stood up. "Return fire and prepare to board! Get right on her!" He swung his hand around.

The two ships once again were firing at each other, only now at close range, causing wooden splinters to fly forcefully through the air, causing some casualties and bloody screams.

A faint, waving voice spoke from behind Antonio, "h-help….you…idioto…" Lovino was on his knees, curled up on the floor and looking up at Antonio in helplessness. His shaky hand reached out and tugged on the captain's jacket.

Antonio barely heard the pathetic voice, but looked back and the color all but drained from his face. "Nino!" he bent down and helped him sit up. "Shh! Where have you been! Now's not the time to be wondering around!"

Lovino started to sob as he threw his arms around Antonio's torso, hugging him in tears. "You…I couldn't finda you!...you said you'd always be there! You lied to a me!" he attempted to punch him but just collapsed unconscious in his arms.

Antonio face grew sad. "Now is not the time, Lovi." He grabbed a passing sailor's arm and pulled. "Hey! Take Lovino to my cabin y lock him in!" _It's the only safe place_.

The sailor was panicky but obeyed and picked Lovino up, carrying him away.

Antonio stood up. "Kirkland will pay for freighting mi tomate!"


	5. Swords Will Clash

Chapter Five: Swords Will Clash

Iggy grabbed ahold of one of the dangling ropes from the main mast. He gripped it. "Prepare to board! Let's show the accursed Spaniards the power of the English Crown!" He used the sharp edge of his sword to quickly cut the rope loose and stepped on top the side rail_. I'm coming for you, Carriedo…and this time, you're dead_. Sword griped tightly in his right hand and the rope in his left, he leaped using the tension to swing over on board the Trunfante.

Gun shots and screams were constant as the canons on both ships were forced to cease fire. The two ships were together now, and the Dauphin's crew dropped a plank across the rails, beginning to board, meeting resistance from the Spanish sailors.

It was quite easy for Iggy to cut down the sailors in his path amongst the commotion and he stepped over the ones already wounded or dead on the wooden floor.

Antonio saw Iggy approaching and unsheathed his sword. His heart started racing faster. This was a moment long awaited for the both of them. A moment of revenge. Finally, they could settle this here and now. It was no longer about their country's conflicting interests, but rather about the score they had to settle.

The two ran and met blades, gritting their teeth and a look of anger on both of their faces. Antonio's hat blew away with a gust of wind, but it didn't faze him as he continued to slice away with quick, smooth motions that were dangerously accurate. Iggy was on full guard, knowing that one slip up on his part would end in a death blow to him. He somehow managed to smirk, which enraged Antonio even more. _Ooo, angry today, aren't you, Carriedo_? Iggy thought. Such a great challenge and danger excited the Englishman and he lived for moments like this. He adored a good challenge and Antonio's fencing and sword skills were just a level above his own. But that was the fun of it. The danger.

Antonio's mind was racing, he couldn't focus and started to get a little sloppy because his anger was making him slip. _On me, mi persones es dependiente! They put the confidence in me to help them y I let the down mucho times! Kirkland! You scared mi Lovino! You killed mi crew! You steal from me! You es an evil man! I will kill you this day_!"

Because Antonio was starting to make errors, Iggy was able to catch his breath a little and was comfortable enough to begin a conversation. Things were at his own pace now and Antonio was falling into his hands. "Temper, temper," He chuckled in a mid-swing, beginning his own advances, no longer having a need to rely on the defensive alone. "So tell me, Carriedo, how have you been since our last entwine with destiny?"

"Gah!" Antonio shouted angrily. "Diablo!" He lunged forward, but Iggy dodged and was able to nick him slightly to the shoulder, stepping to the side and falling back against the rail. His smirk was constant and his breathing was heavy with anticipation.

Antonio was a bit surprised that his lunge missed and stood up, glaring at Iggy in frustration.

"I told you to watch your temper, didn't I?" Iggy pushed himself back off the rail to a straight, standing position, facing Antonio dead-on. "What good is all the skill in the world if you let a spot of anger blur your vision and disable your accuracy? ….Do you really hate me that much?" He pointed to himself with his gloved hand and mocked an innocent, wide-eyed face.

Antonio gripped his sword tightly, his hand trembling from rage. "Si…I hate you muy…muy…I can'te even stand to look at you! Te odio!"

This caused a great of deal of amusement for Iggy and he held his stomach from laughing so hard. Antonio felt his hair stand on end as a great rush of rage flushed through his body. Iggy stopped laughing when he saw the look on his rival's face. "I do believe you are serious," he frowned. "Feh, fine then. Hold nothing back. Have at you!" He dashed forward again.

The momentary pause in their duel was ended and the clinking of metal and the sparks began again, rapidly clashing together in parries and nicks. Neither one of them could land a direct blow, so it was a matter of who grew tired first, or if the ship was taken.

* * *

Lovino's eyes fluttered open and the sounds in the air were muffled at first. "Ugh…where am I?" he blinked a few times and sat up in the queen-sized bed. "El Capitain's vivienda?" He blinked a few times. _Si, that'sa where I am_, he looked around. _But mi papa isa_…? He remembered everything and the noises came flooding back in his ears and he covered them. "N-no! Papa! Papa! Espana!" He jumped out from the mattress and ran to the giant doors, but he wasn't quite tall enough to reach the handle. He started banging on the door. "Letta me out, you idioto! Screw you!" but there was no answer. He stopped banging and looked around for something he could stack up to reach the handle. Books! There were books everywhere, even though Antonio never read them, he would pretend to. Lovino hurried back and forth, stacking them up. "Thosa stupida bedtime stories finally come in a handy, eh!"

It had only been a few minutes, but for the two enemies it seemed as if they had been sparring for over an hour. They were drenched in sweat, not daring to blink for they might miss something. They were both bleeding through their clothes from the blade's small touches, wondering which one of them would make the first mistake.

"Heh, I just thought of a marvelous idea, Carriedo," Iggy taunted with a parry. "Wasn't there a small little boy always clinging to you…?"

Antonio's heart skipped and his sword almost slipped from his hand momentarily as he hesitated to recover from the parry, giving Iggy enough time to charge in. Still holding Antonio's sword hand away with his own, he grabbed at Antonio's shirt and managed to get a hold, pulling him in too quickly for Antonio to react. Iggy slammed his knee into Antonio's stomach, causing Antonio to drop his sword and spit up blood. As Iggy pulled his knee back, Antonio fell to his own knees, breathless in pain.

Iggy was quite pleased with himself, but his smirk turned into a scowl as he shot his hand forward, grasping Antonio's brown locks and pulling upwards. Antonio's face flashed in pain but he didn't shout. He met Iggy's gaze with eyes of hate. "Lost again have you?" Iggy mused. He brought his sword up to Antonio's neck, pressing in with the blade slightly, just enough to draw a little blood flow. Antonio flinched. Iggy looked down at him snidely, "well, I never had a chance to tell you what I plan on doing with your little Spanish 'nino,' now did I?"

Antonio clinched his teeth as Iggy continued, "I plan on taking him…don't worry, I'll let him live for a few years as a slave. And I am going to beat him every single night as I hear him call out your name…but you won't be there to help him, will you? Know why? Because you'll be _dead_, and so the hope will eventually fade from his eyes until he stops calling out your name in his pain. He'll start crying out for mercy. For water to quench his thirst and food to ease his hunger. Eventually he will stop responding all together. And then, I will know that I had won, and you have lost. And I will kill him."

Antonio's was furious. He couldn't allow any of that to happen. And he most certainly wouldn't allow himself to die this day! He tried to yank his head away, but was met with rough resistance and the blade dug in further. He whispered in anger, "you have everything wrong…"

"Oh? Do I?" the Englishman was eager to hear more. He found this all laughable.

"Lovino is not a Spaniard," Antonio said angrily. "He's an Italian, you bastard!"

This surprised Iggy for a moment and his expression looked confused. "Italian?...pft! So what's the difference! Do I look like a care of his lineage? The only thing that concerns me is that he is of importance to _you_. And that's all I care about is making you suffer. I've always hated you! I've always despised you!...heh, I actually changed my mind. I'm going to kill your little 'Italian' before your eyes, then I am going to torture you in his stead. That would bring me more pleasure. You will pay for all the times you mocked me with your riches and elegance! Always showing up my queen in the courts – making her the laughing stock of the world! Others think we're weak, but I'm about to show you how strong I am!" He shook Antonio's head back and forth violently; now it was he losing his mind to anger.

Just when it seemed all hope was lost for the Trunfante, another ship appeared on the horizon

"Cap'n Iggy! A ship!" his first officer came running up.

"What the hell do you want Williams?" he looked over at the man, but he tightened his fingers around Antonio's hair, "can't you see I'm otherwise engaged at the moment?"

"My apologies, sir," the first mate offered, "but the ship is flying the colors of Portugal."

"Portugal, you say?" Iggy asked curiously.

_Portugal_? Spain thought and grew hopeful. _That's Capitain Henrique_!

Iggy glared down at Antonio and shook his head more roughly, "What are you thinking about?! Think you'll be safe, huh?!" He threw Antonio to the ground. "Clap 'im in irons."

"Yes, sir," Williams obeyed. Two men grabbed Antonio and pulled him up as he struggled. They put iron chains around his wrists, ankles and his neck.

"I've already claimed this ship," Iggy said lowly. "Raise up 'ol Jack."

"Yes, sir," again William obeyed and gave the order. "Hoist the Union Jack!"

Antonio's fists tightened. There was nothing he could do.

"I haven't seen Portugal in a while…this ought to be fun." Iggy smirked then punched Antonio so hard he nearly fell. "Bitch."

**Hi, everyone. Hope you're still hanging in there. Please review my story if you like it or even don't like it. I appreciate any feedback you may have. Thank you so much. ^_^ I've been pretty busy lately, but hopefully I can get the next chapter up soon!**

**Translations:**

**Diablo = devil **

**mi persones es dependiente = my people are dependent **

**muy = very **

**Te odio = I hate you**

**vivienda = living quarters**


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